the
beautiful
truth
w h e r e t h e s t o r y b e g a n
a poem i guess
Friday, May 2, 2008 6:23 PM
he sat on the fine white sand
couting the stars before my eyes
asking himself if this was the start of the very end
was it all just full of lies?
it was late
but the night was young
he thought about fate
the pain stung
he felt like a star right then
the one that refused to shine
he wondered over and over again
doubts just filled his mind
a shooting star passed him by
he made a wish, a quick one
he wanted to fly high
he wanted to turn up the sun
for hours he sat
curious about things in his life being true
what was he goin at?
the dawn started to break through
he was falling out back in time
as he stood on his feet
thinking about the days when everthing rhymed
walking down the misty empty street
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once there was me
I'm Janice, sixteen, but really, I'm three. I live in my own fantasy of endless imagination. I like the smell of new books and the wonders a camera can do. I laugh way too much. And this, is my life.
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